Seven Generations
by Secrets of the Fall
Summary: When Kurt dies in a car accident, Blaine is told he has seven chances to save him. The only problem is making the right change before it's too late.
1. Preface

_**Hello,**_

_**This is another multi-chapter fic that I'm starting. I've been working on this fic for about a month now, and I'm happy to finally publish it.**_

_**It's completely AU and will heavily feature Blaine's family as well as his relationship with Kurt.  
><strong>_

_**A huge thank you to my beta, **Gothic Lolita Darling._

_**Preface**  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong><em>On a windswept hill<em>****_ by a billowing sea,_****_ my destiny sits_****_ and waits for me. -Robert Brault_**

* * *

><p>*Mark Anderson was reading in his study when the air around him changed. It grew thicker and he knew that Blaine was coming…again. He sighed, put his book down, and got ready to talk about what happened. Actually, he prepared himself to discuss why Blaine continued to let the same thing happen. The air compressed behind him and began to take the shape of his seventeen year old son. A moment later, Blaine Anderson stood behind him, his breathing erratic, his hand clutching his chest.<p>

"You continue to let the same thing happen." Mark said quietly. His words sounded disappointed, but he himself was not. He was stating a fact, one Blaine needed to understand before it was too late to make any more changes.

Blaine breathed heavily and grasped the door-frame to steady himself. "I don't… know what to …change anymore. I don't know how …to keep him alive," he gasped in uneven breaths.

His father swiveled in his chair to face him. His glasses slipped down his nose as he looked him in the eyes. "The problem," he began calmly, "Is that you are trying to save him because you don't want him to die. What about him? Doesn't he want to live?"

"Well…yes. Obviously!" Blaine was losing his patience. He wanted to know what to do, but his father continued to talk in circles.

His father leaned forward in his chair, causing the legs to moan as he shifted his weight . "Blaine, listen to me carefully. Do you love Kurt?"

Blaine frowned. His heart rate slowed but he was exhausted and starting to worry he would run out of chances before he finally realized what he was supposed to be doing . He leaned against the study wall for support while he spoke. "Of course, what are you getting at?"

His father's voice never faltered. "Then you need to let him go."

Blaine glared at his father. "I will not let him die," he hissed.

"I didn't say let him die," Mark replied softly. "I said let him go. They are two very different things."

"What do you mean?" Blaine screamed at the man in front of him. His temper was escalating as he raised his voice; his shouting reverberated off the walls. "What do you mean? Tell me!" He kicked a filing cabinet; the metal unit shuddered as his foot made contact, the sound echoing around the room, and the impact sending a sharp pain through his right foot.

"Blaine!" His father's voice warned. "I need you to calm down."

Blaine closed his eyes and whispered, suddenly looking scared and vulnerable, "I've changed everything that I could think of. Every. Single. Thing. Things that are insignificant, or…or don't even make any sense. I don't know what you want me to do."

"This is about cause and effect, Blaine."

"I know that."

"Everything you change, causes a ripple effect to occur. It is different every-time."

Blaine huffed. "I understand."

His father stood up and walked out into the hall. Blaine rolled his eyes, now was not the time for a heart-to-heart. He looked at the clock, it was still 7:45. There was a large crash from the hallway and Blaine almost poked his head out the door…almost.

"Blaine, stay there."

"I'm here, dad." He watched as his father came back in with a folding chair and propped in up on the floor in front of him. "Sit."

Once they were seated, Blaine sighed impatiently and waited for his father to speak again. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Blaine. Do not worry about me."

"Okay."

"Blaine, being able to change things is about gaining a new perspective. It's about learning to see things in a different light that allows you to gain a whole new self-awareness in your life. This is a gift."

"It feels like a curse," Blaine mumbled.

His father nodded, "I know." He paused before continuing, "You continue to change things that directly affect, or have something to do with you and Kurt. How about changing something that does not appear to affect you two at all?"

"What good would that do?"

"Everything has a cause and an effect," his father repeated. "Step back and look at the situation from a different perspective. Think about changing some part of the situation that you would not normally change."

"Fine. I still don't understand what you mean by letting Kurt go."

"Stop trying to save him. Change something that you believe has nothing to do with you guys." The man looked at his son intently. He wanted him to understand so badly and he wished he could just tell him what to do. Unfortunately, he didn't even know how this was going to end; nobody did. This was about Blaine and his relationship with Kurt. If he succeeded, this event would change their entire dynamic, for better or for worse.

There was nothing he could do but be a guide for his son.

This was it, no matter how much he wished he could do more.

"Are you ready?"

Blaine gave his father a look, "As ready as I'll ever be. After all, it's not every day I get to save the person I love seven times."

Mark returned the look and held out his hand. "Oh, you'd be surprised, Blaine. You would be surprised."

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><p>*<strong><em> I have not found any indication that Blaine's parents have been given names, therefore, I have named them myself.<em>**


	2. It's Summertime

**_Thanks to my beta, Gothic Lolita Darling!_**

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><p>Kurt closed his notebook for the last time that year. He was done. <em>Yes! <em>It was a humid June day and the stickiness could be felt on the walls, stairs, seats and lockers of McKinley High School. It was disgusting, especially the smell. How could twelve-hundred students produce a stench that vomit-inducing even with the lights turned off and the fans at full power?

Kurt glanced sideways at Mercedes. She had had enough too. Kurt could tell she was texting her new boyfriend, Matt, by the smile on her face. Ever since they started dating two weeks ago, he was all she ever talked about. Kurt was happy for her, particularly since she was considerably happier than she was before. She smiled more, and sometimes, a smile is all that's needed to brighten the day.

The bell sounded over the PA system, the blissful echo of the last bell to ring that year and Kurt jumped up from his seat, relieved that he could go home and shower. He shoved his books into his bag and followed Mercedes out of the classroom.

They grabbed the last of their belongings from their lockers, which wasn't much, and headed down the hallway. Groups of kids ran past them in their desperation to be free, and really, who could blame them?

"Finally," Mercedes exclaimed as she descended the steps with Kurt, the fingers of her right hand grasping her key ring, while her other hand slipped on her sunglasses.

Kurt laughed. "I know. I can't wait to wear the new summer line by Marc Jacobs."

Mercedes grinned. "Didn't you tailor it yourself?"

Kurt nodded excitedly. "I did. Right down to the patterns on the sleeves. I will own my own line one day." As if he didn't already own his own line in his ever-growing closet.

"I don't doubt it, white boy."

They had reached their cars in the parking lot and were getting ready to part ways for the rest of the day. Mercedes was going to the beach with her new boyfriend, and Kurt was going to the movies with Blaine later that night.

All of a sudden, Puck rode down the stair railing screaming:

_It was 1989, my thoughts were short my hair was long  
>Caught somewhere between a boy and man<br>She was seventeen and she was far from in-between  
>It was summertime in Northern Michigan<br>Ahh Ahh Ahh  
>Ahh Ahh Ahh<em>

Kurt laughed and turned to watch as Mike flew through the air after Puck and actually _jumped _the stairs. Where did he learn to do that?

Mercedes, car forgotten, grabbed Kurt's hand and dragged him across the student parking lot. "Come on!" She yelled.

Kurt struggled to catch up. _Darn her, if I break out she is paying for my prescription of Proactiv. _

"Kurt, I can practically hear your thoughts. Calm down and don't worry about your appearance for once; you're perfect."

_And we were trying different things  
>We were smoking funny things<br>Making love out by the lake to our favorite song  
>Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow<br>Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long  
>Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long<em>

Kurt rushed into his friends. The smile on his face was amplified by the realization that summer was upon them.

For once, he didn't mind the sun in his eyes or the fact that he just ran across the parking lot to sing with his friends.

He belonged here.

And there was no place else he would rather be-save for Blaine-than with his friends.

* * *

><p>"So, what movie are we seeing?"<p>

Blaine and Kurt lounged on Kurt's bed flipping through the newspaper until they found the entertainment section that posted the movies playing at the theatre.

"I don't know. This surely isn't the entire selection of movies." Kurt looked disbelievingly at the practically nonexistent selection of movies.

"It should be pretty accurate."

Kurt huffed and rolled over onto his back. "Why can't we call or look online like normal people?"

Blaine frowned and snapped playfully, "_Normal _people? Kurt Hummel, I like to think of myself as _normal _thank you very much." He leaned over Kurt as he spoke, losing himself in the depths of his bright, glasz eyes.

Kurt felt his heart catch in his throat as he played along. "Why Blaine Anderson, I had no idea you were normal. I thought you were an alien that had come to abduct me."

Blaine smiled. "Referencing Katy Perry are we?"

"Only because you would get it," Kurt replied quickly.

Kurt then leaned forward to give his boyfriend a quick kiss, leaving Blaine breathless, and then got out his phone to dial the movie theatre.

"Why is everything computerized these days?" Kurt complained as he followed the prompts for selecting a movie.

"You were the one who decided we should call instead of using the newspaper," Blaine shrugged and nestled his face into Kurt's leg while Kurt continued huffing over the technology.

"Did you find anything yet?" Blaine asked a minute later.

"No. I'm stuck between a late night showing of a movie I'll love and you'll snore through, or another late night showing of a movie I'll cringe through and you'll love." Kurt stared down at Blaine and gave him a look that said, _if we do what I want to do, I'll buy you a month's worth of hair gel._

Blaine pushed himself into a sitting position, he couldn't say no to Kurt even if he tried, . "You win, Kurt Hummel. What time is the movie?"

"Nine-thirty."

Blaine laughed. Kurt was smiling like a goof-ball and he absolutely loved it. "Come here, you." He tackled Kurt into a hug, crushing their bodies together. Kurt gasped at the sudden gesture of affection, then held Blaine tightly as they felt their hearts beat as one.

"I need to tell you something and I want to do it now because it's important." Kurt was staring at Blaine with so much intensity that Blaine forgot how to breathe. He brought his lips to Kurt's forehead and smiled in encouragement.

"I want to be with you forever and sometimes I feel like time is slipping away." Kurt was choking back tears now. "I'm not going to be with you forever because one day I'm going to die and I won't be able to see you, and when I think about how I won't be able to see you I get this tightness in my chest that hurts."

Blaine was horrified. Why was Kurt thinking like this? It certainly wasn't healthy and Kurt was near hyperventilating in Blaine's arms.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Blaine shushed, squeezing Kurt tighter to him although the space between them was already non-existent. "Let's not think about that okay? Let's think about right now, while we're both alive and together."

"I'm so scared, though," Kurt said closing his eyes against Blaine's gentle touch.

"I know, but the important thing is not to think about what's going to happen and think about how we can make the best of the time we have now." Blaine could feel Kurt's heart pounding through his shirt and continued kissing and holding him until his pulse reached a more normal level.

"I love you."

Blaine felt a warmness seeping through his chest at Kurt's words. "I love you, too. Think about right now. What do you want to do now?"

"Let's get ice cream," Kurt suggested.

Blaine laughed. "Alright, let's go."

"And then after that, we can go see our movie." Kurt jumped up and held a hand out for Blaine.

"It'll be about that time, won't it?" he asked as they pulled on their shoes.

"I would think so. It's almost eight right now."

Blaine was silent. "Blaine, are you okay?" In one movement, Blaine took Kurt in his arms again and pressed his face into his shoulder. "I'm perfect," Blaine sighed.

Kurt melted as Blaine held him and decided that they could call the whole night off if Blaine wanted to keep holding him like that.

However, once presentable, they walked down the driveway, the sun warming their backs. Even though it was late in the day, the air hazed and they literally had to swim through the heat.

"I thought we might take the freeway to the movies." Blaine said as they strapped themselves in.

"Sounds fine to me." Kurt was so excited. He was spending the night with Blaine, and possibly tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. They might as well just say their vows now and move in together. Kurt sighed and sank against the seat happily. This was a perfect start to his summer and he for one, would take nothing for granted.

* * *

><p>"Can I have one Peanut Butter Cup Sundae and a Banana Split?"<p>

The woman smiled at them from behind the counter as she called out their orders.

"Kurt, put your wallet away."

"But-"

"If it means so much to you, you can pay next time."

Kurt pocketed his wallet with a scowl. "Just so you know, I will be paying for the next one."

"I don't doubt it," Blaine said with a smile.

After they were handed their ice creams, they took their heaping bowls to a seat in the corner.

"So, Kurt Hummel. Will you be paying for the movie?" Blaine was smirking and Kurt knew why.

"Why, Blaine Anderson, you were the one who asked _me_ to the movies. Therefore, it is only fair that you pay."

Blaine watched Kurt scoop a mouthful of ice cream out of the bowl. He had never seen someone stare with such intensity at peanut butter.

"I thought you wanted to pay."

"Blaine, I can practically feel you smirking. Don't you know it's rude to smirk?"

"Is your ice cream good?"

Kurt put his spoon into the bowl. "Yes. Yes it is. How is yours?"

"Wonderful."

"Blaine, why are you smiling?"

"Because you secretly like that I pay."

"Well-"

"It's okay." Blaine leaned forward, capturing Kurt's gaze in his own. "I like it, too."

* * *

><p>As they walked back to the car, Blaine noticed Kurt smiling. "What are you smiling about?" he asked.<p>

Kurt took his hand and swung their hands between them as they walked. "I'm just happy that I get to spend all summer with you."

Blaine could feel himself melting-and not from the sun-Kurt did that to him. How could one person affect him so much? It seemed impossible, but as they headed into the violet, ruby, and buttercup-yellow streaked sunset, Blaine realized it wasn't so impossible after all.

As they turned onto the next block, they could hear high pitched laughter and smell the scent of steak in the air. Steve's Steak and Fries seemed to be open all the time and attracted as much attention in the morning as in the evening. Business, was just that good.

Kurt wouldn't mind, but the small bar that pulled guys to it like magnets had him wrinkling his nose in disgust. It was annoying to watch a bunch of people get drunk in public and then act like they were five years old. Didn't anybody have any decency these days?

"Look at them." Kurt said sympathetically, pointing out a young man in his late twenties leaning on his equally drunk friend as they exited the restaurant. The stench of alcohol was so potent that Kurt could smell it in his hair five minutes later.

Blaine had to agree. While he had gotten drunk in his very short life, there was no need to get that unraveled and make other people suffer while you scream for a taxi. The man did call for a taxi, correct?

Blaine shook himself free from his thoughts and pulled out his keys. They had reached the car at last, and were going to head to the theatre for a late night showing of a sappy romantic comedy. _But, the wedding gowns are to die for! _Kurt had said earlier that afternoon as they were picking out a movie to see. Even as Blaine had shaken his head with the notion that his boyfriend could be a tad bit insane sometimes, he had to adore his boyfriend because it was the cutest thing when Kurt got excited like that.

So, off they were to watch a sappy romantic comedy.

The ride to the theatre was pretty quiet. Kurt had flipped through almost every radio station before sighing into his seat dramatically, which only made the corners of Blaine's lips turn up. "It is not funny, Blaine Anderson!"

Blaine took his eyes off the road. "You're adorable, and I love you." He waited and then, there it was: the pink flush that covered Kurt's cheeks made him want to reach over and kiss him senseless. His cheeks of course!

"Blaine, the light's yellow!" Kurt's voice raised a few octaves and his feet pressed on imaginary brakes as they reached an intersection.

Blaine turned his attention back to the road in time to see the light turn red, and his feet slammed on the brakes just in time. His heart pounded in his chest as the car stopped short and threw him back against his seat. "Are you alright?" Kurt opened his eyes and turned to see Blaine looking a little frazzled. "Yeah, just give me a chance to breathe again."

"Kurt, I am so sorry." He reached across the seat to squeeze Kurt's hand quickly and then brushed his hand along his cheek, his fingers shaking along the smooth skin.

"It's okay, Blaine. As long as we're okay."

Blaine nodded. He kept his hand on Kurt's skin as they both relaxed enough to begin driving. Blaine knew he needed to pay more attention, he could get so distracted-mostly because of Kurt,-but that was no excuse.

He pressed lightly on the gas and off they went again. Kurt let out a shaky breath but smiled as he said, "I'm just too irresistible. You can't take your eyes off me."

Blaine grinned. "A little smug, aren't we?" He didn't glance at Kurt again and if only he did, he would have been able to see the car speeding at them from a side road. It wasn't slowing, and unfortunately, neither was Blaine.

It happened so fast.

An eyewitness would say the east-bound car was traveling at a reasonable speed when a car coming from it's left smashed into it at twice the legal speed and the car was pushed north before flipping over and landing on it's side. The eyewitness would be shaking and teary-eyed as she recounted the event, but she would move on…eventually. She might be plagued by nightmares, it might even trigger something from her past, but it wouldn't affect her directly.

It's different when you're the person that takes the hit directly. Everything looks different, feels different, smells different, sounds different and there are moments where you remember what you saw so clearly but fail to register the events as they took place.

You see things from a different perspective.

In more ways than one, it changes you.

Kurt was looking at Blaine who had his eyes trained on the road and the sound of metal hitting metal was earth-shattering. You know what they say about slow motion? That didn't really happen here. The force of the crash was too quick for Blaine to process anything in the moment, though he would afterwards, and he felt his neck whip back from the effect before a heavy weight was pressing against him from above.

He groaned. The smell of burning rubber filled the air and made him sick to his stomach. There was too much noise. He struggled to get up but there was this weight that held him down, almost suffocating him. If only he could get up!

"You need to stay still!" Someone called. An EMT? Already? Blaine couldn't think. How long had he been lying here? Why was this thing heavy? He closed his eyes. He was so hazy. It was like the heat. He felt sick. Then, he remembered Kurt. _Oh, God, Kurt!_ His eyes shot open and his heart accelerated. Where was Kurt? Where was he? Blaine struggled even though the responder told him not to because he didn't care. He needed to know where Kurt was.

They reached for him. _No! Get Kurt first! Go get him!_ He was screaming but they couldn't hear him. They just continued to remove him from the wreckage. "Ku-urt," he mumbled.

"Is that the other boy?"

"Yeah."

Why wouldn't they get Kurt? Kurt needed to be taken out of the car. He got the full brunt of the crash. They needed to get him!

That's when he saw. And oh God he needed to look away but he couldn't because oh God, Kurt!

Kurt seemed to be crushed between the window and his seat. How was that possible? His eyes were closed and he looked, peaceful. No! He couldn't be…No!

Blaine wanted to cry out. He wanted to swear. He wanted revenge on whoever did that to Kurt. Kurt wasn't supposed to be held together like that. They were supposed to be buying tickets and popcorn right now, and Kurt was supposed to be yelling at him for pumping too much butter into the bag.

This isn't real. This can't be happening. He wanted them to stop loading him into the ambulance and go back for Kurt.

Kurt couldn't be dead.

It happened so fast.


	3. Second Chances

_Kurt couldn't be dead._

_It happened so fast._

_Kurt._

_"_Son, can you hear me?"

Blaine lay in a hospital bed. The monitor that relayed his heart beats reminded Mark Anderson of how somber the situation was. "Blaine, I need you to wake up," he continued.

Blaine heard his father's voice from a dream. He knew somewhere in his mind that he was unconsciousness, and he was brought back to reality in a rush of adrenaline. He gasped deeply like he was under water, and the monitor sped up to match his racing heart.

His eyes took in the clean hospital room. The white-washed walls, tile floor, and paper-like sheets that held his bruised body.

And then he remembered. Kurt.

He shot up as tears rolled down his cheeks, ignoring the way his body protested, and was met with a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Lie down, Blaine."

"What?"

"Lie down," his father ordered.

Blaine lay back against the thin pillow and panted as he tried to regain control of his racing thoughts. Kurt was dead, he was in a hospital room, which hospital was he in anyway? He lifted a hand to his head but winced at the strain on his muscle.

"Blaine, I need you to take deep breaths."

"Kurt is gone," he cried, "He's gone."

"Blaine, I need you to listen very carefully." Mark waited patiently for his son to focus and pay attention. "I want you to take my hand, and remember to take deep, even breaths."

"What's happening?" Blaine stuttered in between sobs.

"Just take my hand. Everything will be okay."

Blaine grasped his father's hand and felt his weak heart speed up at the contact. His father's touch sent a shock wave through his hand that raced through his arm and went straight to his erratic heart. "What's happening?"

"Remember to breathe." The man kept a firm grip on his son and nodded at the reactions Blaine was experiencing.

"My heart," Blaine choked out. His father watched the monitor as it climbed to show Blaine's racing heartbeat.

"Calm down, son. Just breathe, there you go." Mark watched Blaine faint in the hospital bed. He blinked twice, and satisfied when the clock on the wall ceased moving, set out to bring his son home.

* * *

><p>Clarissa Anderson watched her husband from the hall as he looked after their son. Blaine was lying in his bed, unconscious once more, as they were waiting for him to stir. She didn't have a lot of time. She let out a nervous breath and fixed her suit before opening the door. She hated when this happened. It was written all over her face; she was one of the only Anderson's against it. "I still think this is a bad idea," she whispered over the man's shoulder.<p>

"He's being given a second chance, and we need to go through with it." Her husband did not look at her while speaking. He didn't have to, he could feel her dislike for the events that were about to unfold like an itch you couldn't scratch.

"We're testing fate all over again," she continued, her voice growing desperate.

"We're not testing fate," he replied evenly.

She stared at him incredulously, "How are we not testing fate?" She exclaimed, gesturing to Blaine in the bed. She was escalating, with her hands clenched at her sides and her usually flawless features drawn up in a panic.

He sighed, unconcerned, and turned to face her. "This is our fate. To not go through with this is to test fate." He had said it once, he had said it a million times. It was getting old.

"This is unbelievable," she spat shaking her head. "Our own son. We can pay for the hospital bills, the therapists. It isn't a problem. Please," she pleaded.

He shook his head. "It isn't our decision."

"We're his parents. Don't tell me it isn't our decision!" She snapped.

"He's waking up," he whispered.

Clarissa took one last look at her husband, one glance at her son, and backed down. "You know what, I can't deal with this anymore. Tell him on your own."

"That's not the way to go!" He called after her retreating figure.

"If you're going to let him do this, I don't want any part in it!" She yelled from the hall.

"Please, wait. Just because…damn it!" Mark turned back to Blaine. This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen. This was a gift for Christ-sakes! Why couldn't she appreciate that?

"Ddad?" Blaine groaned.

"Hello, son. How are you feeling?"

Blaine moaned. "Like I died." He shifted in his sheets, trying to remember what happened. "What am I doing here?"

Mark frowned. "Blaine, do you remember Kurt?"

His father's words were gentle, but that didn't stop Blaine from sobbing uncontrollably at the name. "He's gone. He's gone." Blaine repeated the same words over and over again, and curled deeper into the sheets.

Watching his son fall apart like that tore Mark in two. He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to calm him down. "Blaine, listen to me." He raised a tentative hand to his son's shoulder and tried to remember the word's his own father used so many years ago. "Blaine, I know how hard this is for you. Blaine, you have a second chance to save Kurt."

Blaine froze. He wiped his tear-streaked face and looked at his father. "What are you talking about?"

"You have the ability to save Kurt." Mark watched Blaine carefully for the first signs of disbelief.

"Why would you say something like that to me?" Blaine asked, his voice laced with venom. "Why would you do something like that to me?"

His father ignored his questions and used a different approach. "Blaine, how did you get here?"

Blaine's hatred turned to confusion as he struggled to remember. The last thing he knew, he was at the hospital and his father was there, telling him to take his hand. What happened after that?

"I don't know," he said finally. He was exhausted from his emotional outburst and he wanted to be left alone. He was confused and when he woke up from a nap, he would understand what was going on.

"I brought you here."

"Okay," Blaine replied with an air of annoyance. "Of course you brought me here. Either that or mom, but I don't understand-"

"Blaine," his father said cutting him off. "How did I bring you here? Do you remember that?"

Blaine struggled to grasp a memory, however faint, through his fatigue and grief. He couldn't. "No."

"You passed out."

Blain's sharp intake of breath as the incident became clear was astounding.

Mark breathed a sigh of relief. Now that they were getting somewhere, it was time for the secret to be passed down to the next of kin.

"Did you kill me?" Blaine asked cautiously.

The man had to fight back a chuckle. "No, son. I made you faint and then," he paused, making sure he had Blaine's complete attention. "I stopped time."

Blaine blinked back at him. He was waiting for his father to say 'April Fools' even though it was the ending of June, but nothing happened. His father's eyes weren't even twitching like they did when he was caught in a lie.

"Blaine, did you hear me?"

Blaine heard him. However, the words, "I stopped time," seemed so unbelievable that Blaine almost laughed. What was wrong with his father? A small chuckle scurried past his lips. This was it, his father had gone off the deep end.

"You're crazy," he replied with a smile. He slowly repositioned himself into a sitting position and lifted his legs over the side of the bed. He was going to go down the hall and take a warm shower. At least he could think long enough for that. The pain of losing Kurt was overpowering and his heart hurt. It felt like it was being crushed underneath the guilt that he was the one driving the car. Kurt was gone, and his father was telling him that he wasn't. Shouldn't he be helping him deal with the reality of his loss? No. Instead, he was feeding his desire to fall into one of the stages of grief, denial.

"Blaine, think about what you felt before you fainted." Mark's hand was tight on Blaine's shoulder, but Blaine wanted out of the conversation.

"You know what? You can go to hell!" Blaine shook off his father's hand and stood up carefully so he didn't fall back. His chest hurt. Was it all emotional?

"Blaine, I need you to be careful so you don't injure yourself more." He patted the bed next to him. "Please, come and sit down so I can explain this to you."

Blaine turned. Pain and fury were pressed onto his features like soft clay, and he could tell it caused his father pain. He fixed the man with a cold stare, "I'm going to take a shower and during that time, maybe you should think about talking to someone."

The man knew he didn't have a lot of time. He had a half hour to make his son understand, and another half hour to teach him how to save Kurt. No pressure. Real world time itself was stopped, Blaine just didn't see it. If he could get Blaine to focus on the clock, then maybe he would listen. But he needed to find a way to get Blaine to focus on the clock. He needed a way in; he needed to his son to trust him.

"Blaine! If you leave this room you will be plagued by guilt for the rest of your life. You will wonder what could have happened had you only stayed and listened to me. That feeling will eat you alive." He watched as his son stopped in the doorway and turned around to lash out, "I'm already guilty! He's gone and I was the one driving the damn car! Don't tell me that I will be plagued by guilt! I already am!"

Mark took a step towards him. Blaine was talking. This was good. Now that he had his son's attention, he needed to form the connection. Once the trust was established, he could get Blaine to listen and believe that what he would be doing was not only real, it would save Kurt.

"I know you are, Blaine," he said calmly. He continued taking careful steps towards him. Blaine was shaking with anger. His arms were hugging his midsection, as if he was trying to hold himself together. "I understand how hard it must be to know that you were driving that car."

"Do you?" Blaine screamed.

His father nodded. "I do. To be driving with someone you love, someone you would do anything for, and then, to have them ripped away like that, that is hard."

"It came out of nowhere! Nowhere! They wouldn't even…" Blaine trailed off as his body was racked with sobs. "They didn't even go to him first. They didn't even try to save him."

"I know, son." His father gauged his distance. He could continue to deescalate his son so he could walk over and take him back to the bed, but he didn't know how much longer that would take. Blaine was expressing his feelings and if he said the right words, he would have Blaine calmed down, and the fact that Blaine also wasn't yelling at him to stay away was a plus too.

"I know. They didn't try to save him, but you can." He looked at his son with encouragement and hope as he moved closer.

Blaine shook his head, "It can't be possible." His heel was up against the door and Mr. Anderson needed to bring him back.

"It is possible. If you come back and sit down with me, I will tell you what you can do, and then you can make a decision." He was close enough to wrap his arm around Blaine's shoulders, but in order for this to work, Blaine needed to trust him, he needed to walk back of his own accord.

"How is this possible?" Blaine sobbed. "How?"

His father nodded, Blaine had asked the right question. "Come on, come with me," he coaxed. Blaine collapsed against him, and together they made their way back to the bed.

* * *

><p>"You are not going to see your son?" The Russian maid asked Blaine's mother as the woman tried to calm herself down in the living room.<p>

"No, Ivanna. I want nothing to do with what my husband is telling Blaine." Clarissa leaned into the sofa and closed her eyes, trying to keep her tears at bay. Even as she heard her son scream from his room, she drew in a shaky breath and waited for the second hand to change. It never did.

* * *

><p>Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes is a long time when you are trying to get someone to listen to you, and not enough time when you have a lifetime to share with them.<p>

Both Andersons situated themselves comfortably on the bed. Blaine's sobs had ceased a few minutes ago, but his body was still plagued by heaving breaths every now and again.

"I want you to know that I am very happy you've chosen to listen," Mark began. "It's very important and what I am going to share with you will change your life forever."

"I understand," Blaine said quietly. He just had to listen and then, if everything still sounded insane, he wouldn't do it. But, something was off with the situation. "Where's mom?"

"Your mom had something she needed to get done," his father answered with an edge to his voice.

Blaine caught it but chose not to say anything.

"When I was your age, about thirty-five years ago, my best friend passed away."

Blaine gave him a confused look. "Jack?"

"Yes," his father said nodding. "Jack."

"Jack's alive," Blaine pointed out.

Mark smiled. "Yes, that's because I had the opportunity to save him."

Blaine didn't say anything. He took another shaky breath and turned the news over in his head. Jack, his father's best friend, his godfather, died thirty-five years ago. As much as that seemed so other-worldly, he was filled with an intense need to know what happened. His father was looking at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, but what do you say when you're being told something so unrealistic is real?

"How did he die?" Blaine asked finally. He didn't look at his father while he spoke, instead opting for a spot on the wall.

"He drowned." Mark smiled sadly at his son, tears clouded his vision as he remembered. "It was a beach party at the end of the summer before college in the fall. A bunch of us got together to spend one last time together as a group; we knew that some of us would fall out of touch and we wanted one last time."

Blaine had never seen this side of his father. The man was reliving the event, and it was clear that he had repressed the memory. Blaine was both intrigued and saddened by the front that his father normally put up to the world.

"Do you ever talk about it with Jack?" Blaine asked quietly.

"No."

"What happened afterwards?" Blaine pressed. His heart was accelerating as his father recounted more and more of the story. Could he really save Kurt?

"We were all taken to the hospital and my father met me there. After I fainted I found myself in my house with my father with me, just like now."

"What did he tell you?"

"He said…"

...

"_Son, I know how hard this must be for you."_

_Mark Anderson sat on the edge of the chaise in the living room, wiping tears from his eyes and trying not to fall apart. The death was his fault; if he hadn't pushed Jack to keep going, his friend would still be here. _

"_It's my fault," he said expressionlessly._

_His father shook his head. "No, this was an accident." He waited a moment before asking, "Do you know why you're here?"_

_Mark shrugged and looked down at his hands. He swallowed hard as his shoulders shook with more sobs. _

_His father looked at him carefully. "Mark, you have the opportunity to change this."_

_Mark looked up, his hazel eyes burned into his father's deep brown one's. "What do you mean?" he asked. _

"_You have the ability to change his death six times. Each time, you will go back one hour before Jack's death and change a particular part of the situation to change the outcome of this afternoon."_

_Mark sat there in disbelief. "Wow, I must have died too," he muttered. _

"_I know how this must seem-"_

"_It's insane. Jack dies and you're telling me I can go back in time and save him?" Mark shot up from his seat, his eyes livid, and in a sudden fit of rage, picked up a vase with lilacs sitting on the glass table and threw it against the wall, shattering the vase and splattering water everywhere. _

"_Mark!" His father barked. "I need you to calm down." He stood up and moved over to Mark who was breathing heavily a few feet away. _

"_It's hopeless, I can't change anything," Mark said as he sat back down and put his face in his hands._

_The chaise dipped as his father sat next to him in the cramped space and put a hand on his shoulder. "You can, if you want too," the man told him. _

_Mark looked up. "Wouldn't I be, like, messing with the world's balance or something?"_

_His father chuckled. "No, Mark. Our family wouldn't be able to go back in time if that was the case."_

"_You mean, this has happened before?" Mark asked with shining eyes._

"_Yes, for the past six generations."_

"_Why?"_

_..._

"Why?" Blaine asked.

His father smiled. "This is where it gets even more far-fetched and abnormal. You still with me, kid?"

Blaine nodded; his father had his complete attention.

Mark glanced at the clock, "Okay, I don't have much time left, I'll have to make this quick."

"What do you mean?"

"The first time an Anderson loses someone they love before their loved one is supposed to die, an unfair death that is, they have an hour to learn the secret before they are immediately brought back an hour before the death."

Blaine frowned. "That clock hasn't moved at all, how do you know you don't have a lot of time left?"

"You get good at judging time. Now, back when this all started in 1870, a man named Matthew Anderson was going to marry a young woman named Elizabeth Collins. The wedding went well with no problems or disturbances, but when they went to have their first child, Elizabeth didn't survive the birth."

"Here is where it becomes skeptical. Matthew took the death pretty hard, like most people would. He was denying that anything happened at all, and the rest of the town was afraid that he was going insane. He was ordered admittance into a psychiatric institution by his doctor. Blaine, at that time the term grief wasn't introduced to mental health professionals. They had no idea that that was what was going on with him; that he was in the stages of grief, and when he was wrapped up in anger, he was violent. When he was going through depression, the second to last stage, it got too much, and he…his body was found in his bed."

Blaine swallowed thickly. "He killed himself?"

"Yes."

"Is this where it gets weird?"

"Yes. The other patients would say they saw his ghost wandering the halls at night." Blaine rolled his eyes. "Blaine, I told you this would be weird. Remember, this is back in 1870 and many of the patients were suffering from different mental or psychotic disorders. The doctors and other staff were convinced that Matthew's suicide had deeply affected some of the other patients, but when there was an explosion in the basement five months later that couldn't be explained, they began looking farther into the event."

"How?"

His father was about to explain when he glanced at the clock and shook his head. "There isn't time, we'll have to finish this later."

Blaine stood up, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, in five minutes, you will be brought back an hour before Kurt's death to begin the process."

"I don't…I don't think that I can do this." Blaine was suddenly terrified again. He would be completely alone in this and if he didn't succeed the first time, if Kurt still died, how would he be able to try again?

"Blaine, you will be okay. You need to find ways to change the situation, and in turn, change the course of the evening. Take things slowly, pay attention, and keep calm. Kurt cannot know that anything has changed and I will be the first person you see if you whether you succeed or not." His father took hold of his hand and led him out the door.

"Dad, what if I can't do it?" Blaine asked breathlessly, following his father into his study.

His father turned around. "Blaine, I'm going to be honest with you. You will most likely not succeed your first time. This is an emotional journey that will force you to reevaluate everything you've ever thought, everything you've ever known. It will be one of the hardest things you've ever done."

Blaine could see his tears mirrored in his father's glasses. He would get to see Kurt again. He was both overwhelmed, overjoyed, and completely not ready. He had no choice. It was now or never, and now was calling his name; whispering in his ear over and over again until he was about ready to scream from the repetition.

"Remember, Blaine. Keep calm and try to keep the same conversation from before going. This will be difficult, but I believe in you." He held his son's face in his hands as he spoke in an attempt to show how important this was to Kurt, Blaine and the entire Anderson family.

Blaine grasped his father's hand again as tears streamed down his cheeks. "Good luck," Mark whispered to his son's fading figure. "Good luck."


End file.
